


But I do

by Ever-so-reylo (Ever_So_Reylo)



Series: The Rise of Skywalker One Shots [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Marriage, Pregnancy, Reylo babies, Teasers & Trailers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 11:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21135794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ever_So_Reylo/pseuds/Ever-so-reylo
Summary: Ben looks at her, and looks at her, and looks at her. And thinks that in all his years, in all the bloodshed, in all of his power—he hasn’t know anything or anyone else. He has everything, and yet he wants nothing, nothing, nothing but her.





	But I do

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Я знаю](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21146312) by [Scofie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scofie/pseuds/Scofie)

> Unbetad and unedited and written mediocrely in one hour but GUYS HAVE YOU SEEN THAT TRAILER!?!!?!! WE ARE ALIVE 😭😭

“People keep telling me they know me. No one does.”

Ben looks at her, and looks at her, and looks at her. And thinks that in all his years, in all the bloodshed, in all of his power—he hasn’t know anything or anyone else. He has everything, and yet he wants nothing, nothing,  _ nothing _ but her.

“But I do.”

…

“It’s too dangerous.” She sweeps the back of her hand over her brow, and it comes back glistening with sweat and seawater. “We cannot go in.”

The Emperor’s power—it curses through them like poison, fed by centuries of rage and thirst. Rey is right: it’s too dangerous. Even if they defeat him, they will never make it out alive. They are just pawns in his masterplan.

“You are correct.” Ben takes a step back, and then another, until what is left of the blast doors of the Death Star lies between their feet. “You cannot go.”

It’s but a flicker of the Force, to trap her on the other side. To protect her from the Emperor and from himself. He sees her eyes widen, and the look of betrayal—surprise, worry, fear, fear for him, grief, and something tenuous, something  _ else _ —it all rushes through the bond and empties inside his head. 

_ It’s too dangerous, Rey. You’re not expendable. _

He activates his lightsaber. “But I am.”

…

There are pieces of armor at their feet, and residues of the Emperor’s energy lapping at them like waves on the shore.

He needs to leave right now. He needs to leave this place before he sinks into it.

“Ben.” He turns to look at Rey. There is blood on her cheekbone—his or hers, he doesn’t know. “Where are you going?

He doesn’t know. He knows  _ nothing _ .

“Ben. Please?”

He is drowning. He is adrift. He is in deep space, on the high seas. 

“Ben.” Rey’s expression is a mix of worry and relief and that other brittle thing. “Do you trust me?”

He almost laughs. “It’s me that I don’t trust.” 

His hand goes to his side, finding it empty of the lightsaber he discarded. He wonders if he’ll forever miss its weight in his fingers. He wonders if he’ll survive the way Rey is walking closer, pushing up on her toes, tears streaming down her face as she tells him:

“I know. But I do.”

  
  


…

  
  


Finn is... he is perhaps not as scary as he is trying to be, but he’s doing a decent job nonetheless.

“I don’t trust you. I will never trust you. And if you hurt her—”

“I won’t.”

“You already  _ have _ .”

It’s true. Ben rolls his jaw and wipes his palm over the linen of his tunic, but says nothing. It’s not as though he has any right to.

“You have  _ no idea _ —” Finn’s voice breaks. When he starts again, it’s raspier and harsher. “You have no idea what she went through after Crait.”

Ben thinks of the never-ending days and sleepless nights, of the icy loneliness of his throne room; of the emptiness of deep space, of the taste of blood in the back of his throat from biting his tongue during too-brutal trainings. He thinks of all of it, and says:

“But I do.”

…

  
  


It doesn’t matter that C-3PO doesn’t remember him, because he remembers how to be an annoying little shit all too well.

“Ben Solo, Prince of Aldeeran, King of Naboo—”

Rey smiles, but Ben rolls his eyes. “Threepio, cut it out, please.”

“But—Sir, your titles—”

“Can we please just—”

“—it is very important that protocol is—”

“—move on and get this over—”

“Threepio.” Rey is full out laughing, now. And so is Rose, right behind her. Poe and Finn less so, but they were never going to laugh, not today. “Just ask the question. Please?”

C-3PO sputters for a moment, but then he turns to Ben. “Ben Solo, do you take Rey to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

He really thought he had it, but all of a sudden he can’t talk. His throat is as dry as the Jakku desert and as constricted as if in a chokehold, so he just nods. It must be enough for protocol, because Threepio continues: “And you, Rey, do you take Ben Solo as your—”

She doesn’t even let him finish. She just smiles up at Ben and grabs his hand, and murmurs:

“I do.”

…

“Do you see them?”

“Who?”

Rey doesn’t lower her eyes from the cloudless night sky. If he follows her gaze, Ben knows that he will see it pointed towards the Western Reaches.

“Your mother. Your uncle. All of them. Do you see them?”

He nods. It used to bother him, but then he started to listen.

“I do.” 

…

  
  


There is sweat soaking his chest and their bed, sweat that smells sour and frightened and so much like the bile he would vomit after one of Snoke’s training sessions, after being summoned by him, after feeling him ransacking his head.

“Are you okay?” Rey’s hand is light and cool on his clammy shoulders.

“Yes.”

A sleepy snort. “No, you’re not.” She sits up, wrapping her hands around his waist from behind. She is deliciously warm. “Same dreams?”

“Yeah.” 

He wants them to stop. He really wants the dreams to stop, and to put everything that happened, the entire Force wars, behind himself. He wants to forget, to start again. But the truth is that he doesn’t deserve it, he is not worthy, he cannot forgive himself and no one else, not even Rey, should ever even  _ think _ of forgiving him either—

“But I do, Ben.” 

  
  


…

He really wants to think that it’s not the way his erection is brushing insistently against her ass that woke her up, but then again—the only alternative is that his kisses on her little nape are the ones to blame, and Ben figures that they’d be equally bad.

“Ben?”

“Hmm.” 

Under his hand, her belly is a round, perfect sphere. Her skin is pale and stretched tight, and even though Rey misses her lithe body, misses training and running around and her crazy stunts, when she is finally not like this anymore—Ben will definitely miss it. He might have to get her this way all over again. Multiple times.

“Ben.”

He lets his hands drift even lower. She is—mmm. Nice and warm and wet. Sighing in pleasure at his touch. Ready and  _ perfect _ .

“Ben, I’m  _ huge _ . I look as if I’ve swallowed a Cartusion whale. You can’t possibly want to—”

He slides a knee between her thighs and makes room for himself, beginning to push inside.

“But I do.”

…

  
  


“Daddy?” Leia is frowning, a vertical line deepening between her brows. 

She has blue eyes. Luke’s eyes. And Rey’s freckles over her cute, pointed nose (not Ben’s, thank fuck). And blonde hair that will darken in time, for sure—unless she continues running around the Tatooine desert, on adventures with her mother. If she does, the twin suns might keep it streaked with light.

“Yes?”

“Will you come back?”

He smiles as she climbs into his lap, agile and sure footed as a scavenger.

“Yes. In eight days.”

She nods thoughtfully. “Eight,” she repeats, and furrows her brows while she counts. Then she lifts seven fingers up to his face.

“Almost.” He nuzzles his nose against her palm. “It’s just a work trip. To teach other kids, kids older than you, things that you already know. Things that have to do with the Force.” 

“Ah.” She smiles, as if pleased to already  _ know _ . “You come back?”

“Right.”

“You always come back?”

“Of course.” 

“But you can’t promise that, right?”

Ben looks behind his shoulder to Rey. She is in the kitchen, humming under her breath as she prepares food that will taste horrible, but that he will pretend to enjoy. Leia, at least, doesn’t know any better, and is growing up thinking that her mother is a great cook. 

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“You can’t promise it. That you’ll be here. Always.”

_ Always. _

Ben smiles and pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “But I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me [on Twitter! 💕](https://twitter.com/EverSoAli)


End file.
